


If The Punishment Fits

by anonniemoose



Series: The Beetlejuice Conglomerate One Shots [6]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King, Original Work
Genre: Alpha!Scarabee, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BDSM themes, Boot Riding, F/M, Leather Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, boot kink, brat taming, omega!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25013764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonniemoose/pseuds/anonniemoose
Summary: Close to your heat, you decide to get a little bratty. Scarabee isn’t going to tolerate it.Notes: Ok so in a Discord I'm in, we created an Italian Mafia Boss Beetlejuice named Scarafaggio.....from there we just went nuts. For all notes please go toherefor more info on all 5 versions of Mafia!Beej.
Relationships: Beetlejuice/reader, Scarabee Shoggoth/Reader, Scarabee/Reader
Series: The Beetlejuice Conglomerate One Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751845
Kudos: 17





	If The Punishment Fits

It was dark. The silk, black, blindfold made sure you couldn’t see and the binds made of matching material limited your movement to just rocking your hips against the solid mass that’s currently pressed against your heat. Your hips stuttered to a halt when you gasp, pressing down a little too hard on your clit. You can hear your alpha’s discontent rumbling.

“Did I say you could stop _mon cher_?” You whimper at his warning, hips moving again, making sure not to graze your clit so hard against the unyielding leather of his boot.

It was your own fault, really. You were being bratty, and had been for weeks. Bee had been busy with work, and he had tried to make time to spend with you but. In his line of work? It wasn’t always easy, let alone possible. That still didn’t excuse you from pushing his buttons, however.

What tipped him over the edge was you telling him that you’d find another alpha if he was too busy to pay attention to you. You both knew you didn’t mean it, but the threat was there and that wasn’t something you could get away with, which you knew the moment his eyes snapped up to you, head twisting so he had a full view of you as he growled out “ _Quoi? Qu'est-ce que tu viens de me dire,_ Y/N?” You could feel the challenge, but you stuck out your jaw and simply informed him that he very much heard you. “Over my knee, omega.”

You scoff. “As if that’d work on me. I’m sure I can find an alpha who is more able to dom me than a simple command to come straddle his knee. It’s been so long, I doubt you could even handle me anymore.” The smile on his face is deadly as you start to dig yourself into your grave.

“ _C'est à moi que tu parles? Oh, petite fille, tu devrais savoir maintenant me parler avec plus de respect que ça_.” He pats at his knee. “Here. Now.”

“I think I’d rather just leave and go find one of the other boys.” You’re about to remark how they would probably have time for you is cut off by a dark chuckle.

“ _Chiche_!” You move to leave, ignoring him patting his knee taking him up on his dare. “ _Si vous quittez cette pièce, ma petite pute, vous le regretterez_.” You don’t need to speak French to know that that is very much a threat.

And this was your punishment. Three days before your heat was due to hit, you were tied down and told to rock against him until you came. Which you did, expecting to be told to stop and clean up.

But then he told you to keep going.

And going.

And going.

12 orgasms later and you’re exhausted. Small praises helped you carry on but even then, your muscles are sore, cramped and covered in sweat. You are sure you are wet to your knees with your slick as you press your head against his thigh, nuzzling in when his hand moves to hold onto your hair lightly.

“That’s it, _mon petite amour_ , let me hear those pretty little sounds you make. Let me hear your brain melt for me.” You whimper loudly.

“Alpha, please, I don’t think I can do another.” You beg.

“ _Chut._ ” You press your head down harder against his thigh as your hips continue to rock. It felt like every cell in your body was on fire, and the cause was the constant rubbing on your clit, crying out when he lifts his foot to the pressure builds, bringing you closer to number 13. “ _Écoutez mon petit oiseau chanteur chanter. Quels jolis sons elle chante pour moi_.” He cooes as you shudder over him, head now moving for you to mouth at the fabric of his pants in an attempt to convince him to let you have a break. “ _Qu'est-ce que c'est ça? Ma petite salope veut-elle quelque chose? Continuez à monter ma botte, petit_. Make Daddy proud, darlin’.” You whine as he starts to pet at your hair as you cry out against him, your 14th orgasm taking over you as you shudder and cry out, mouth feeling like it’s full of cotton wool, just like your brain as you drool against the leg of his pants.

“Oh, sweet thing, has your brain finally melted for me?” You hear him snicker but you’re too tired to bite back as his hands carefully remove the blindfold from your face. You blink, the light of the room an assault on your eyes after so long in the dark. “You did so well for me, _ma charmante femme_.” His hands move to brush back sweaty hair with a smile as you slowly gain the strength back to sit upright. “You know what you have to do now?” You look at him, confusion evident on your face. “You made a mess, _mon cherie_ , you have to clean it up.” You moan when your brain, although slowed from the fog, finally pieces together what he wants. To his credit, he does help you dismount and wiggle back, even if he didn’t untie you and he pushed down on your back so you landed on your face next to his shoe. It’s only then you discover just how worked up he got you.

His shoe is soaked and the floor is saturated in your slick. To be fair, you are pretty impressed you managed to produce so much without being in heat. Above you, you hear the alpha clearing his throat. “ _Allez-y alors, chouette, allez travailler._ ”

You start with his shoe, tongue gliding against the soft leather as the earthy taste mixes with your own. You can’t help but groan as you methodically slide over every inch, stopping occasionally to press your lips firmly against the tip of the boot, causing Bee to laugh at your insistence of kissing his feet. You can pick up his voice speaking softly above you, words washing over you as you concentrate on just the feel and taste of leather on your tongue. “ _Oh, ma douce, tu m'écoutes et tu m'obéis si bien. Une si bonne petite fille, parfaite pour moi. Tu es si belle à genoux pour moi, mon ange. Je devrais peut-être vous garder là-bas, ça vous plairait? Oh. Je pense que oui_.” You whine loudly as you move from his shoe to the floor, making sure to chase every drop you can against the hardwood floor. It’s hard, you have to shuffle around, your knees are aching from kneeling for so long and your arms and wrists are sore from being tied in an awkward position for so long. But, you obey your alpha and make sure that the floor and his shoe is shiny with your spit. He chuckles when he catches you eyeing his other shoe but pulls you into his lap before you even have a chance to clean it.

“How do you feel, ma belle?” He asks as he calmly unties your hands, bringing them in front of you as he massages the redness away from your wrists.

“M tired.” You say softly as you melt under his administration, leaning in to find his scenting spot on his neck and purring happily once you find it, nuzzling in close as you start to relax into the smell of honey, liquor and something that you couldn’t ever place, but was just so quintessentially Bee that it always felt like walking home. “Sore. Hot.” You list off. He hums as he traces lightly over your back.

“You did so well for me, darlin’. _Si fier de toi, douceur. Vraiment, je suis impressionné._ ” He purrs out. “Such a good little omega for me.” You feel him move to ghost his mouth along your neck until he finds his mating mark and mouths over it gently, causing you to keen at the heat against such a sensitive spot. “You going to behave from now on, _cher_?” You snort.

“No. When do I ever?” He chuckles, your statement very true.

“ _C'est vrai, mon amour. Une des nombreuses choses que j'aime et admire chez vous._ ” He states softly against your skin.

The two of you just sit together, you in silence as he murmurs faint praises in a mix of English and French. The stiffness and soreness goes away, but the heat does not. Instead, it seems to build. You shift in his hold a few times before your brain snaps to attention.

Oh.

“Uh. Bee?”

“Mm?”

“I uh. I think we may have-”

“May have what, little omega.”

“Ithinkwemayhaveprematurelysetofmyheat.”

“…..ah.”

“So.”

“Bedroom?”

“Probably for the best.”


End file.
